


Friend Is A Four Letter Word

by Embrium



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-17 00:20:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11264091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Embrium/pseuds/Embrium
Summary: After Horizon Shepard is angry and needs an outlet, Garrus wants to be a good friend but ends up with a front row seat to Shepards secret.





	Friend Is A Four Letter Word

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this years ago when I was in a heavy Mass Effect grind. Inspired by Cakes Friend Is A Four Letter Word.

The snap of biotic energy floating in the cabin was the only sound in an uncomfortable silence on their ride back from Horizon. Garrus sat across from Shepard trying not to be absorbed into her rage. He had every right to be just as angry as her, but the words were hurled at her, coming from someone she loved. His own anger subsided and turned to guilt as he realized he should have intervened. Turning his gaze back to her he noted the twitch at the corner of her left eye, her posture too rigid, fingers curling into fists and uncurling when she noticed she was flaring again. From what he knew of human facial expressions, and what he’d learned from the time he spent around her, she was the picture of calm, betrayed only by blue flashes. She wasn’t looking at him when he opened his mouth to speak, too distracted by her thoughts, focusing her gaze on some point outside the shuttle. He closed his mouth and looked away, he knew her well enough not to approach her when she was angry about a sensitive topic, anything he could’ve said would have probably made her feel worse anyway. The woman sitting beside Shepard stared straight ahead, not making eye contact with either of them. She’d seen and heard enough to know Shepard was angry and hurt and in absolutely no mood to talk about it with anyone, least of all her. Despite Shepards’ nearly tangible desire to punch and break everything in sight, the shuttle landed in the Normandys’ cargo bay without incident. Once the doors opened Shepard stalked out, leaving Garrus and Miranda in the shuttle. They exchanged a glance and rose to leave once the elevator closed, both knowing what Shepard needed was time alone.

 

*****

 

She should have known. There was always that little nagging feeling in the back of her mind that told her this wouldn’t go well. She paced the elevator as she waited for it to reach her cabin, allowing dark energy to flow and writhe along her body. The jerk didn’t even let her try to explain and, like an idiot, she’d frozen under the assault of his accusations. Then she let her anger get the better of her and went on the offensive. It was worse having an audience, a genetically ‘perfect’ Cerberus lackey and her turian best friend, watching her humiliation and heartbreak at the hands of a former lover. Miranda had heard enough to know her relationship with Kaidan was more than friendly, the bitch was probably reporting it to the Illusive Man now. Just the thought made her blood boil. Anger seethed to the surface as the elevator reached her floor and she stomped into her cabin, removing her gloves and dropping them on her desk as she went. The bubbling of her empty fish tank might have soothed away the anger if she hadn’t turned her head to see the same accusing face on her desk. For a moment she saw red and suddenly she was fumbling with her right foot. Once it was free of the boot she took aim and threw it at the picture. The two collided, and in a spectacular show of force, the frame hit the wall and shattered, leaving behind a dent in the wall and jagged fragments on her desk. 

She stood staring at the damage numbly. She didn’t mean to break it, she just wanted to vent her anger a little. Shepard laughed bitterly. How appropriate that she’d just destroyed the picture like she had their relationship, for the exact same reasons. She was frustrated with her position, abandoned by the Alliance and the Council, and pinned beneath Cerberus and the Illusive Mans’ thumb. She hadn’t contacted him because she didn’t want to make him more of a target than he already was. Well that plan went to hell in a hand basket, not only was he upset with her, but now Cerberus would know what he meant to her. At least Garrus and Joker were here with her, she could protect them as long as they were on the same ship as her. Wrex was on Tuchanka and he could handle himself. Tali was with the migrant fleet, but from what she gathered from their last conversation, Cerberus could reach there too. Info from the Illusive Man said Liara was on Illium working for the Shadow Broker, but she had powerful biotics on her side, and could likely handle whatever was thrown her way. Still the idea of leaving a friend exposed and alone didn’t sit right with her. She sighed as she unpinned her hair and let it fall in her face, she couldn’t protect everyone, but she‘d sure as hell do her best. She looked back to the shattered picture, now that it was over maybe he’d be safe. Despite her anger she still loved him enough to hope he would be safer in the Alliance without her. Surveying the damage to the wall above the shattered frame and scuff marks on her desk left by her boot, she felt the all too familiar twist in her gut. She was stronger than she remembered, with the upgrades Cerberus made to her body she shouldn’t be surprised, but her emotions had been frayed and strained. She lost control of her strength again, seemed like it was happening more and more when an unpleasant memory popped up. 

‘It could’ve been worse’ she told herself ‘ you could’ve shot the damn thing, or him when he turned his back and walked away’. 

She removed her pistol and SMG, rolling her head as she started the arduous task of removing her armor, walking down to her armor locker and dropping a shoulder pad in. She turned and walked to her desk as she unclipped the other shoulder pad and let it fall. Shepard turned around again and threw her chest plate into the locker. She couldn’t stop pacing, playing the scene over in her head, letting her armor fall. Kaidan accusing her of leaving him, not contacting him, betraying the Alliance! Kaidan smiling shyly as she gave him a new Omni-tool she found on Noveria, Kaidan offering his hand to help her up, Kaidan moving with her slowly as they made love. Down to her body suit, Shepard flung herself onto her bed, shoving away the memories.

She needed to relax, needed to think things through, needed something to shoot, needed a drink. She toyed with the idea of asking Grunt and Garrus down to the cargo bay for a little sparring and target practice. She rolled over and decided against it, with the way she was feeling right now she’d probably let her biotics loose and end up crushing the both of them, literally. She turned to her Omni-tool, music always soothed the savage beast, and occasionally the savage bitch, then she remembered her old play lists were gone, replaced by the crap every club in the galaxy seemed to play. Shepard groaned as she jumped off the bed and over to her “private” terminal, she spent the rest of her night on the extranet looking for all the old songs she loved to play when she was feeling like crap. She hated most of the stuff that was played in this day and age, it all seemed to run together and sound the same in the end. She developed a preference for the music and artists of the late 20th and early 21st Centuries. The songs were shorter but the lyrics had more meaning than any of the crap around now. She needed more than just a soulless beat to mindlessly dance to. At around what would have been 2am Earth time, EDI intervened and began adding songs on a separate list based on Shepards’ searches. There were songs she hadn’t heard of or listened to but if they were similar to what she already liked she’d give them a shot. She selected a few of her favorites and asked EDI to make a play list based off of them. Rising from her hunched over position by the terminal, she stretched and felt fatigue wash over her body. Yawning she unzipped her body suit and made her way to bed, she was grimy with sweat and who knew what else, but she was too tired to care. She collapsed on her bed and was asleep before she could completely remover her body suit.

 

*****

 

“Stupid, smug, manipulative, Illusive SON OF A BITCH!!!”

Muttering quickly turned to yelling as Shepard left the conference room after a meeting with him. The bastard knew how to get under her skin, and he enjoyed it far too much, even if he didn’t show it. When she was done with this mission, she would make damn sure the son of a bitch would pay for every ploy that put the people she cared about in danger. She huffed out a breath, blowing it upwards to momentarily lift the black hair out of her face. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her posture and let the commander mask slip back into place as she exhaled. Sure the bastard could get under her skin but there was no reason for the rest of the crew to see it. She turned and forced herself to walk through Mordins’ lab to the CIC, she usually walked through the armory but at the moment the temptation to grab Jacobs’ best shot gun and shoot the hell out of the QEC was too great.

And the day had started out so well too, waking up at 6am to go for a jog in the cargo bay, followed by a quick shower and breakfast. Browsing through the new dossiers she had Joker set a course for Haestrom. After what happened on Horizon she was paranoid about losing Tali too. She chatted with Joker for a while, listening to him crack a few jokes and cautiously turn the topic to Kaidan on Horizon. It didn’t sting so much when she admitted that he moved on, it wasn’t something she could blame him for, she had been dead after all. She walked away feeling significantly lighter. She was in a good enough mood to apologize to Miranda and Garrus about her behavior the day before. She had to constantly remind herself that Miranda wasn’t technically evil, just a woman doing her job. Shepard was discussing the advantages of upgrades with Mordin when Kelly informed her the Illusive Man wanted to speak with her, it was then that her day had gone south. 

She walked quickly through the lab, nodding to Mordin as she passed. Passing through the CIC she made for the elevator and pressed the pad for her cabin. The more she met with the Illusive Man the more she needed time to herself to put the mask back together. She wasn’t anywhere near the end of the mission and she was already so tired. It got harder and harder to get up everyday and wear the mask of the strong, confident commander. Her mind constantly wandered back to her youth on Earth, to the days she spent running with the gangs, wondering how she went from another statistic to the Hero of Citadel. Why her? She sighed, it didn’t matter, this is where she was, this is who she is nothing in the galaxy could change that. If she were given the option to go back and change every choice she‘d ever made, she wouldn’t. Pushing the thoughts from her mind she quickly browsed the play list EDI had compiled for her. She linked her Omni-tool to the speakers in her cabin and set the play list to shuffle the songs automatically. She smiled as she recognized the first song, she wasn’t much of a fan of opera but she had her favorites and Schuberts' Ave Maria was definitely at the top of that list; it had a way of soothing her, even when she was at the absolute peak of rage. She settled in the chair at her desk and poured over the stack of data pads waiting for her. A few hours later found the commander heading for her shower, on Earth it would be early evening and she loved showering at that time, it was symbolic. The sun would set while she was in the shower, taking with it the pains of the day as they were washed from her body. Bringing up her Omni-tool again, she linked the music to the speakers in the bathroom. Grabbing a pair of underwear she headed for her shower.

 

*****

 

Once the calibrations were done he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. Garrus’ eyes strayed to that little black case he kept underneath his cot in the main battery. He’d carried it around for two years, unable to bring himself to throw it away. When Shepard had come by earlier to apologize, he’d been stunned. He accepted because he knew there would’ve been an argument if he hadn’t, but before she left he saw something.

She nodded in that military way of hers, professional, rigid, and turned to leave. She raised her hand to the door and let it hover near the button. He could hear her chuckle before she turned around.

“Thanks for sticking around Garrus, it means a lot to me.”  
And then she turned and smiled, Commander Shepard was gone, and for a moment he saw the woman beneath the mask. He felt his eyes widen and his mandibles twitch slightly. She trusted him.

He’d met Shepard when she was chasing after Saren, had gotten to know her through the course of the mission. There was mutual respect that grew into an easy friendship. He remembered the nights when she couldn’t sleep, she’d sneak down to the cargo bay with a tool bag and hop in the Mako for about an hour. The fourth time she’d done this he decided to confront her, he was insulted that she didn’t respect him enough to trust his work; sneaking around to check his work after everyone else had bedded down for the night. He popped in only to find her having a drink. Caught red handed, she explained some nights the nightmares were so bad she needed something to put her out and Dr. Chakwas’ sedatives didn’t always work. Hiding out in the Mako forced her not to get drunk, so she’d have enough sense to walk back to her cabin in a straight line and avoid becoming an alcoholic in the process. That’s when it started, she’d come down to the cargo bay every night before bed and talk. He’d tell her stories about the turian military, weird things he’d seen working for C-Sec, or some of the oddest jokes he could think of. Occasionally they’d actually drink, she’d managed to find a pretty good dextro liquor for him, not his favorite but he wasn’t going to complain so long as the commander was buying. Their nights drinking were quickly invaded by Wrex.

They stifled their laughter as quickly as they could, noticing the scarred krogan lumbering toward them. Garrus’ mandibles still twitched slightly but Shepards commander mask was back on. She stepped toward Wrex as he came to a halt in front of them.

“Something I can do for you Wrex?”

He sniffed the air and looked between them, and they knew they were caught.

“Yeah,” he grumbled “share.”

Shepard shook her head and laughed as she leaned over the console they hid the bottles behind. She tossed Garrus his bottle and his cup and reached for her own. Pouring the clear liquid in her own cup she glanced at Wrex.

“Where’s your cup Wrex?”

“Don’t need it.” 

He snatched the bottle from her hands and downed the whole thing in one gulp.

“WREX!!!”

“Hm, kinda weak. Not enough to get drunk on. Got anymore?”

“No, that was my last bottle!”

Wrex shrugged and walked off.

“YOU OWE ME A NEW BOTTLE WREX!”

Garrus chuckled as he picked up the bottle and sniffed the opening cautiously. The odor wasn’t very strong but the alcohol in it burned his nostrils. He turned his attention back to Shepard, she was eyeing the pitiful amount of liquid in her cup. She shrugged and downed it in one gulp before she noticed Garrus looking at her. He held up the clear bottle and pointed to the blue and silver label.

“I never asked, but what is this stuff anyway?”

“El Jimador tequila, my favorite. It’s really hard to find out here but I came across a couple of bottles last time I was on the Citadel.”

“I thought tequila was yellow.” Garrus cocked his head to the side wondering if he was wrong.

“Yeah, it comes that way too. I prefer the silver because it tastes better and goes down smoother. That and the yellow kinda reminds me of urine.”

Shepards’ face scrunched in displeasure as Garrus choked out a laugh. El Jimador, he’d have to remember that.

After the battle of the Citadel Garrus had returned to C-Sec while Shepard went on to clean up the remaining geth incursions. He ended up ordering a bottle of her tequila from Earth after he ran out of liquor stores to search on the Citadel. The day it arrived was the day he received news that the Normandy was destroyed and Commander Shepard had gone down with the ship. From that point on he disconnected himself from life, food didn’t taste the same, he barely slept. His frustration with C-Sec reached its breaking point and he left, taking that bottle with him. He saved the bottle for two years, unable to drink it, and unable to throw it away. He kept it with him as a reminder of the human woman who had earned his respect and gained his friendship. It was a happy memory.

Garrus leaned over and plucked the case from beneath his cot. Shepard was feeling bad, he had a gift he knew she’d love. He was almost positive she hadn’t had a drink since that night Wrex finished her last bottle, and Wrex had never replaced the bottle either. Making up his mind he settled the case under his arm and left the main battery, heading for the elevator. He almost wished Wrex was on board, then they could all enjoy a night of funny stories, glorious battles long since passed, and just being all together drunk. Then again a drunk krogan in Shepards shiny new cabin was probably a bad idea. He started thinking of jokes in the elevator ride up, he’d heard a few good ones lately and he had more than enough crazy stories that he’d accumulated on Omega. He would have paused to ask entrance to Shepards cabin had the doors not opened for him automatically. He cocked his head to the side as he took a few tentative steps inside. The muffled sound of water running through pipes told him she was most likely in the shower. He made his way to the couch and decided to wait until she was out, hoping she wouldn’t be long. 

Settling the case on the table, he sat down. Garrus suddenly felt like an intruder in Shepards’ personal space, he really should have asked her permission before coming up to her cabin. He was about to get up and leave when music suddenly turned on in the cabin. It was a slow beat, beginning with a stringed instrument he couldn’t place.

“To me coming from you, friend is a four letter word. End is the only part of the word that I heard, call me morbid or absurd, but to me coming from you friend is a four letter word.”

Garrus heard the door to the bathroom slide open, the scent of steam and soap permeated the air, accompanied by light, slow foot steps walking in time to the beat. Shepard walked into his line of sight, effectively freezing whatever attempt he would have made to get up and greet her. The white towel draped over her head, obscured him from her view and reached low enough to cover her bare breasts. She wore a pair of skin tight, tiny blue shorts, accented by her light skin and the dark energy sliding along her body. Her hips swayed with the beat, adding to the sexuality it expressed in her presence. He was hypnotized, he should have looked away or at least made a sound to indicate she had an audience, but found all he could do was watch.

“To me coming from you, friend is a four letter word. End is the only part of the word that I heard, call me morbid or absurd, but to me coming from you, friend is a four letter word.”

She faced away from him as she turned toward her drawers, presumably to find more clothes. She continued to sway slowly, deliberately, as she searched, biotic energy flowing and caressing her bare form lovingly.

“When I go fishing for the words I am wishing you would say to me, I’m really only praying that the words you’ll soon be saying might betray the way you feel about me.”

Her biotics built and flared out as the song reached its crescendo. Garrus watched the towel fall as Shepard rolled her head back and raised her arms, writhing with the song. Blue flames flared and licked along her body, enhancing her movements as she grazed her hands along her form. The display of taut, lean muscles beneath delicate skin was unlike anything he’d ever seen, definitely better than any asari stripper dancing shamelessly on a stage. There was loneliness and need in her movements, something more profound and meaningful than any of the awkward dancing she displayed in public. He really should have looked away, but then he sensed the end of the song, slowing Shepards dancing. The light around her body dimmed as she sang the final verse.

“But to me coming from you, friend is a four letter word.”


End file.
